


Carnival

by SkartoArgento



Category: Far Cry 3
Genre: Drugged Sex, Hallucinations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1389796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkartoArgento/pseuds/SkartoArgento
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The end fight with Buck takes a different turn when Jason loses the upper hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carnival

“What did you do to him?”

Keith’s too far away to reach. Jason tries, stretches his hand out, but there’s nothing there. Just an empty black hole that wants to eat him all up. The wound flashes pain on his arm. Buck’s voice echoes from somewhere to the left.

“He’ll be all right. We’re just going to have a little talk.”

The knife. There was something on the knife.

He falls down.

Into the carnival.

The lights are all pink and blue. The music is jinking bells that fall into discord, then rise back up. He’s wearing a mask. The other patrons stare at him with blank faces. No eyes, no mouths. This is his carnival.

 _“What did you do, Jason?”_ The voice echoes from the starless sky. Buck. _“What did you do? You’re hiding it deep aren’t you? You’re both hiding it so deep… and I want you to tell me.”_

So deep Jason sometimes thinks it never happened at all. He walks a little down the path. To his left, bright lights illuminate a stage. His stomach drops. Grant is there, and Keith, and him. They don’t move. They’re frozen in laughter, shot glasses raised high.

“We were drinking,” Jason says to the sky. It gives a hum. Pleased.

_“And then?”_

The lights flicker off. Flicker back on to his right. Another stage, another scene.

Keith is fluffed up like a pissed-off cat, and Grant is right up on him, lips drawn back in a snarl. Jason’s between them, and the look on his own face is the desperation he’d forgotten. It had been over something stupid. Some football team, maybe? Or was it over a girl?

“They had a fight. Grant left. Keith went to his bedroom.”

A different voice in the sky _. “Don’t tell him, Jase, please don’t…”_     

_“Be quiet, Keith, this story’s fuckin’ going great, eh? Go on, Jason.”_

A different stage. He’s trying to comfort Keith, get him calmed down. In his head, he remembers Keith’s words. Your brother’s a douchebag, an asshole.

He had agreed, lied through his teeth. Didn’t want the night to be completely fucked.

They had kept on drinking.

Arguing had gotten Keith pumped, Jason could tell. It was the same old story with him. He had to have the outlet. Always starting fights, always had to do something to get that energy out. Couldn’t just go watch a movie, or blast some aliens on the Playstation. No, Keith always had to be physical.

A new stage lights up.

They’re on the bed. He can’t remember who had suggested wrestling. He wants to say Keith, wants to stick that blame on him, but he has to be honest with himself. Keith has him pinned, Jason’s wrists against the sheets, their bodies twined and hyped up. They’re both laughing, still statues, and Jason’s in the middle of shifting himself to try and hide his hard-on. Fucking shots, he remembers thinking, fucking wrestling.

Their forms flick. Keith now straddles him, leaning over his body. Saying something about how Jason needed to pump more iron. The alcohol’s put a stupid grin on both their faces. Keith leans a little further, maybe going to whisper some other taunt. Jason watches his other self’s face, the way he goes from giggling like a schoolgirl to an almost-sober seriousness. Keith’s lips are too close, and his breath smelled like lemon wrapped around the razor-edge of vodka.

Jason had tilted his head up. Met that mouth with his own.

The embarrassment still stings.

Keith had pulled away, frowned at him. Then, like Jason, his face had changed, and he had surged forward, kissed him hard.

They’d been too stupid and too drunk to even consider a condom.

Flick. On the stage, they’re naked, merging.

When Keith had filled him, thrust inside with a breathless moan, it felt like nothing Jason had ever experienced before. Nothing came close, ever, not even fucking Liza. Keith’s eyes had been closed, but Jason wanted to watch. His stage-self’s hands slide up Keith’s sides, up to his shoulders where they grip hard and anchor him. Pleasure had rubbed inside, and his own hand gripped his cock while they fucked. He pulls Keith down, and clear as fucking day still remembers saying _‘fuck me, please, c’mon, baby, c’mon’_. Over and over.

He hopes Keith doesn’t remember that.

They writhe on the stage, to the delight of the other carnival goers. In the real world, he feels a hand curl around his erection. He bucks into it, wants that pleasure again, doesn’t care who’ll give it to him.

_“Jason…”_

He can’t tell who the voice belongs to. Doesn’t care.

Stage Keith moans his name. Jason watches and remembers, can almost _feel_ Keith inside him. “Yes,” he whispers to the both of them. He clenches real-world skin, hair… and then something _is_ inside him. He strains against a body, whimpers like he’s doing on the stage. “Please…”

 _“Please,”_ the sky says, _“please, God, Jason, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”_

He shivers. The pleasure builds between his legs and he rolls his hips back. On the stage, Keith is thrusting even harder now. His eyes are still closed, but he’s saying Jason’s name at least. It would kill Jason if he’d been thinking of anyone else.

Around him, the carnival twirls. The Jason and Keith on the stage have found a rhythm, their moans loud and _real._ The lights turn in a sick circle. Pink, blue, pink, blue, pink-

He comes sudden and hard. Head spinning, breathless, he whispers Keith’s name. The pleasure fills him inside, then releases, withdraws like the tide, wave by wave.

 _“It’s all right, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, Jase. Oh, God…”_ The sky-voice is steeped in a sob. He reaches up to reassure it, and sees bright blue eyes staring at him from the darkness. Keith.

The carnival dissolves around him. The lights go out, the people shuffle into the darkness, and on stage they’re breathing hard against each other. They kiss. They are the last things to vanish.

He’s kissed in the real world, and he can taste the thin salt of tears.

“Now, that’s a show.”

The world crashes down in ice-cold reality. He’s lying on the dirty floor, naked, and Buck’s voice is too close. Jason looks to the right, sees him sitting on the bed with his pants undone and a hand around his erection. He’s wearing a smirk the size of the moon.

Something wet drips on his cheek. He looks up, and Keith’s staring down at him, naked as well, the white of his eyes cracked red against blue. “Jason,” he says, his voice trembling, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t want- he-”

Jason’s fingers tangle in Keith’s hair. Their foreheads and the tips of their noses press together. He closes his eyes. Pretends they’re home. Keith doesn’t resist, just presses back.

Everything’s still hazy, sluggish, and when he tries to say something to Keith, the words are just a slur that dies on his tongue.

 “All right, you two, break it up. Keith, get off him. It’s my turn.” He hears Buck walk towards them. Keith turns into a tense ball of muscle on top of him.

“No.”

The silence fills the room.

“What did you say?” Buck’s way too close now, and Jason wants to say something, to beg either of them not to, but the lump in his throat strangles away his words.

“I said _no._ ” Keith’s hands are either side of Jason’s shoulders like he’s his shield. His voice is still shaking, but now there’s anger under the fear. “I’m not going to let you hurt him!”

Buck’s sigh sounds like a death sentence to Jason. “Keith. You’ve finally found your balls again, hm? Shame it’s right now, I’d have fun taking them off you again. But I really, _really_ want to play with Jase at the moment.”

_“No.”_

Buck’s foot slams into Keith’s shoulder. Oh, Jesus, Jason fucking felt that.

Keith staggers, grits his teeth and makes a tight noise of pain. Buck kicks him again, this time in the ribs, and Keith cries out, his eyes clenched shut.

But he doesn’t move from Jason.

Buck growls insults, starts to use his fists, tries to drag Keith off. Keith raises his face, looks down at Jason. Their eyes meet. Keith flicks him this tiny _‘hey, this is fucking crazy, right?’_ smile, even as Buck’s palm meets the side of his head.

Jason’s fucking horrified.

He can see Buck’s foot coming again, straight for Keith’s neck, and it’s all in bullet-time. He’s Neo when he flips Keith and lets the foot connect with his shoulder blade. The pain bursts, white-hot, spreads like wildfire. Jason gasps. Braces himself for another.

“Jesus-fuckin’-Christ.” Buck sounds more than a little pissed off. Jason feels an arm go around his chest and he doesn’t resist when it hauls him up. Keith makes a small sound, tries to follow him, but Buck’s foot on his groin keeps him down. “Keith, sit there and just shut the fuck up. Don’t think for a second I won’t tie you to the bed using Jason’s intestines.”

Jason looks at Keith, even as he’s being manhandled onto the bed. He mouths _‘it’s okay,’_ because the last thing he wants is for Buck to hurt Keith again. Keith just stares back, curls his knees up to his chest and looks like he’s about to cry. Jason wants to go to him, tell him it’s not his fault, that there’s nothing he can do –

\- but then Buck pushes him onto his back, wrenches his knees apart and forces himself inside Jason. Even though he’s stretched and still slick from Keith, it still bruises and makes him shudder. Buck fucks like it’s a punishment, and it probably is. There’s no soothing, no hand on Jason’s cock to try and make it just a little bit better, just a relentless slam of hip against hip.

Buck comes quickly, and that’s a bit of relief at least. Must have gotten too excited from kicking the shit out of the both of them. He pulls out, wipes himself off with a sigh. Jason doesn’t see where he pulls the rope from, but the next thing he knows is that his hands are behind his back and Buck’s tying them together.

“You two can entertain yourselves for the rest of the night, can’t you?” Buck gives him a pat on the head, then walks past Keith, who’s still sitting on the floor, and gives his thigh another kick.

The second he hears the door slam upstairs, Keith’s beside him on the bed. He touches the side of Jason’s face, and the spot on his back where Buck kicked him. Jason wishes his own hands are free so he can touch back, but all he can do is nuzzle against Keith. How different would shit have turned out if they’d stayed together? Maybe he’d be a little bit happier, maybe Keith would have been a little bit calmer. Maybe they wouldn’t be on this fucking island.

Keith pulls him down, gently, to lie next to him. Their faces nudge against each other, and every so often Jason can feel the slight push of lips on his.

They don’t talk for a long time.

Keith finally whispers into his ear. “Did you… ever think about it? That night?”

He has to be honest. “All the time.”

Keith doesn’t say anything to that, and when Jason rubs their cheeks together, he can feel tears.

“Hey,” he stretches himself out, lies flush next to Keith, “we’ll get out of here, okay? We’ll get out and then… we’ll get a fucking house together. Buy a dog.”

Keith’s laugh sounds so much like a sob. “No, a cat.”

“Whatever you want.”

“And a parrot.”

“No. Birds are gross.”

“Thought you said I could have whatever I wanted?”

They play this game for hours. So long that they almost forget that they’re trapped in some psychopath’s basement. Keith eventually falls asleep next to Jason, his breath ruffling his hair. Jason stays awake for a little while longer. His wrists clench against the ropes. He wonders what he can offer Buck that’ll make him let Keith go.


End file.
